she keeps her gaze upward.
She stumbles over the stratus. She pushes ashy blond hair away from her forehead with grimy fingers. She grimaces and elevates her perspective. Sweat drips down into grey eyes. Alto clouds bend to her will. She dances up the stratosphere, with her chin tilted, and teeth gritted.
she reaches for the cirrus...
and grasps cotton candy dreams. Sweating and swearing, she pulls herself up. She glances downward, laughing at the serious circus of worries.
The tiny dots, the life she left behind, swirl and dissipate. It is important to understand the importance in
not staying grounded